Nameless
by aschenblume
Summary: Oneshot. Abby Nightingale has a... er... colourful past, one from which people want revenge. NOT I repeat NOT for the younger/more sensitive readers. R&R, Comments, as always, Loves. Oh and Jack is NOT the original Jack, that's just coincidental.
1. One

Nameless.

She gasped out as he backhanded her again. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he yanked, jerking his arm violently and sending her toppling to the ground, torso held painfully upright by her hair follicles.

She kicked out, hissing in pain and frustration. He just chuckled lowly, and started walking along with her in tow. Getting desperate, her hands clawed at the smooth, unforgiving floor, only succeeding in bruising her fingertips and breaking a nail. She then resorted to scrabbling at the skin of his hand, the one that clutched her now-knotted curls and kept her hostage.

The idea oozed in her head; she must be causing him at least _some_ pain. She didn't have much time to enjoy this fact, as she was promptly hurled through old doors, into a dark room.

Dark spots blotted her vision, handicapping her, but she grimly held on to that slippery consciousness.

Taking breaths hurt, so she kept them small and quick, as murky water seeped through the back of her dress and into her hair. She wondered absently what he was going to do to her, but the dreary pondering was forcefully barrelled out of the way when a heavy object connected with her tender side. The force lifted her a few inches clear of the ground and whooshed her with a sickening crunch into a faux-red-bricked wall. As she looked up at the smoggy ceiling, she seemed to have an out-of-body experience. All the pains melded into one, and any further added after this merge simply faded in comparison.

The man – no, the _monster ­_– circled greasy fingers around her pale, delicate neck, raising her up effortlessly to his eye-level.

Her eyes were too unfocused to pick out features – maybe that was planned? – but his voice was so unlike his character that if he hadn't been killing her she'd have smiled.

How ironic.

"_What is the matter, Abby?"_ the cruel voice twisted almost tangible tendril-like arms into her thoughts, caressing them. _"You know I don't really want to hurt you. And you know you want this too."_ The arms hugged her consciousness, petting it, getting itself trust, before finally spiking out at it. Asphyxiation won over. She shuddered, and Abby Nightingale passed out.


	2. Two

Nameless - Two

(His POV)  
He grunted, smiling crookedly with an evil glint in his manic eyes.

"_Well done, _Jack." He congratulated himself somewhat sarcastically. _"You've kicked her OUT the safety of that building. Fucking splicers will get here any second, them and their stupid bunny masks…"_

Jack scooped her up into his arms, running back inside and barricading the door with telekinesis.

"_Hate the place, love the ADAM," _he murmured to himself, a sign of insanity he had chosen to embrace in the dank, dark world he lived in. He kept low as he ran, heading over to a wall that seemed pretty standard for Rapture – slightly creepy, crumbling, and blood-spattered.

He didn't change his pace at all, as he walked into the wall.

Well, _through_ it. It was just a hologram that registered who you were by your cell structure and deoxyribonucleic acid – DNA to you and me.

The sensors were outside each exit, and if you weren't made of the right stuff, then a real wall slid over the gap.

Instantly, upon entering, his stature relaxed somewhat – he was safe here, in one of his little dens. He'd witnessed a Big Daddy try and get its grubby mitts into one once. Didn't even get close as all Jack had to do was press a button, and a huge magnet the other side of the room started pulling its drill. Simple as.

(Her POV)  
Her eyelids fluttered open, and panic that had been smothered with the heavy blanket of unconsciousness came stampeding back, danced in a circle, did the Macarena, then continued its previous screaming.

Abby's left side was saturated with blood, her thoughts dulled by pain, as she did one of the only easy actions to someone crippled – swivel her eyes in their sockets to try and find out where the Hell (or Rapture) she was.

It was a pretty plain room, bedroom in fact. The colour theme to it was deceivingly soothing – browns and creams, very warm colours.

_Ice cubes are warm compared to this place…_ With a jolt she remembered that thousands of miles of water were crushing down on them, pressing them and squeezing them lifeless like a boa with its still-kicking prey.

And the ADAM… she had bad past experiences with the stuff. She tried… oh what was it called?... the fire one? Anyway, she had just brought herself to stabbing the stuff into her forearm, injected it, but the pain involved… Abby had thrown up, screamed for half an hour, begging for someone to stop the burning. There was something in it she reckoned she must have been allergic to.

Ah well, it had been worth it while it lasted, she didn't want to try it again or jab in some EVE.  
_At least, I think that is what you do… wait, I'm meant to be freaking out, and here I am reminiscing. _

Abby went to raise a hand to massage her temples and soothe her headache, but she found she couldn't. Her eyes went wide in horror as she found all her limbs were stuck. _Oh balls…_ That was around the time she realised it wasn't a bed she was strapped to, just a cold metal surgical table in a bedroom-like setting.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT WITH ME?!" she screamed, angry more than scared now. She tugged against the ropes some more, comforting herself with images of what she would do when she found the _bastard_ who tied her up.


	3. Three

Chapter 3

Before Abby could scream again, the sound of a door opening reached her ears. Straining to turn around to the source of the noise but failing, her seething anger slowly decreased in size - she was literally helpless. Completely a victim to whatever this sick-minded son-of-a-bitch intended to do to her. That realisation was the worst one to have, and her breath froze in her lungs, and paralysis extended its horrifying clutches towards her.

What if he raped her? Abby was a virgin! And if he killed her, or drugged her? No-one would exactly come to the rescue. Rapture was just a _tad_ cut off from the rest of the living, breathing and ignorant world.

Echoing footsteps in the small room made her jump as each fell, she knew her impending doom was getting closer by convoy of that very sound. Though she tried very hard not to, she almost started hyperventilating as her breath fell short, and in irregular little gasps.

A click reached her eardrums a second later, and she flinched. Suddenly a huge light flooded her, illuminating her pale skin and blinding her. _At least I won't have to watch it happen... My death._

A low, ghastly chuckle sounded, and it's origin elaborated. "Deer in the headlights, my darling. I'm the lion." He laughed again at his own supposed joke, and a hint of a shadow covered one eye as he leaned over her. _"Laugh."_

Abby had no hope at all of recognising him - perhaps that was a good thing? - as the strong light from behind him left his shape just that of a silhouette. _"I said laugh." _He hissed, impatiently. Still she was shocked and scared, still that poor deer in the headlights, and so he leaned closer, over her to the ear on the opposite side to that he was standing.

"What part of that command, Abby, do you not fully comprehend? Insolent little _child…"_

She snapped back to reality, glaring at him for his comment. "Child?! Get the hell out!"

He chuckled menacingly. "Oh, but I would if I could. But see, we are both stuck here. You got sucked in here, I got sucked in here. No difference between us.." He crouched down, placing his lips next to her ear. "We're so alike… And surely, you must remember me Abby dear…" His fingers caressed her face, and after not getting an answer squeezed her cheeks and forcefully turned her head to face him. Now, she could see. Now, she knew who it was.

_And it scared her more than not knowing._


	4. Four

Chapter Four

_A/N: This chapter is dedicated to V. Redfield for posting a lovely review - and my first for this story. Thanks a bunch! x_

"What..? Holy shi-- is that you Jack!? What has happened to you..?"He glared at her, turning his head to the side as he scrutinized her facial expressions at recognizing him. "You'd scream. And run, as far as you could. Even to the splicers. If you just knew what I've been through.." He stood back up, backing away from her view into a darker corner of the room.

She tugged violently against the thick leather straps that confined her. "For God's sake, I thought you'd been had!" It was a bit difficult to forget really, seeing someone close being picked up and thrown over a balcony like a rag doll. Her rage had brought something out in her she hadn't known existed…that B.D. didn't stand a chance.. A small part of her previous anger reignited. "I thought you were DEAD! You said we were in this togeth--MMM!!" Abby's screeches were cut off by him pressing a greasy hand over her mouth. She writhed, staring at his silhouette in disbelief.

"Abby, Abby, Abby." He tutted her name. "I said to you. I've been through things that would make your skin _crawl_."

Usually, he wasn't this talkative. Maybe that's why it freaked her out even more when his stubble-covered face brushed her smooth-skinned cheek again. He stroked her hair, the mangled and knotted mass it had become to her still seemed beautiful in his eyes. He picked up a lock of it, and pulled it taught. She writhed against him even more, shaking her head not just in hopes of moving him, but in hopes of dislodging the memories that were so painful to her. They were resurfacing - no way of stopping them now. It was just a matter of time before it really hit her that he was still alive.

_Snip snip snip._

The tight pulling on her hair decreased with every snip. She realised he was cutting her hair - but there were more pressing issues. Like how she was going to escape, for one!?

Abby stopped squirming, and released pressure on the leather belts. Jack froze."You wish to speak?" His voice was smooth again, silky and gentle, the one she remembered from so long ago..

Biting back a spiteful comment along the lines of being held hostage and whether she had much choice, she nodded. He released his hand from her mouth, instead encircling her fragile neck easily, no pressure applied.. Yet.

"Why… Why would you leave it so long? I thought you'd been killed, or worse, they had got you and-" she choked and her breathing stopped, and Abby felt a pounding in her ears. He stopped squeezing.

"_Speak about something worthwhile. _Otherwise you're of no use to me anymore.." The way he shifted from nice to nasty so suddenly really disoriented her. The isolation had really affected him.

"S-sorry.." She breathed deeply, and once the world had stopped spinning, she chose another subject. Well, she tried. "I er… hear that they've just got in the new line of dishwasher soaps… Jack. Jack…what has happened to you? Why are you doing this to m--!" Her voice died again in her throat, and her arms pulled frantically against the straps almost involuntarily, her body's survival functions worth nothing here.

"I'm going to kill you now, Abby." He said smoothly, calmly. Like this was a release for him, her pain. She really believed these were her last thoughts - and staring into his eyes she could see the inner turmoil, the _scars_ not just physically but mentally.

…And a tear rolled down her cheek, touching his blistered hand. He recoiled.

She gasped for breath, her lungs sucking it in as though they were her last, making up for the rest of the life it wouldn't be breathing. She looked over at him, and saw through the darkness a small amount - he was staring at the tear.

"J-..Jack?" She hated to have to draw attention to herself, but the straps were really hurting, and where he'd thrown her earlier she had probably fractured - possibly broken - a rib or two.

There was a click, and everything went black.

A normal light faded on, to a manageable level. The sudden brightness then darkness made her thankful she didn't have a migraine.. Until she remembered she did. In the calm silence - heavy, like that before a storm - she closed her eyes, not caring where Jack was standing.

She felt hot breath on her face, and opened one eye to see him centimetres from her face, scrutinizing every inch of her for some reason… almost _hungrily._

"_Lonely…"_ he murmured, and touched her cheek softly with one hand. _"You don't know what it's been like.. I've had no company for __**so**__ long…"_ She gulped, and clenched her jaw. _"Abby.."_

Before she could react, or turn away, his caressing touch turned foul and he clutched hold of her, forcing his lips on hers. She grimaced, it wasn't Jack. It just wasn't.

He stopped, and her eyes remained closed, more tears flowing but not from sadness or fear - from utter overload. Everything that had happened while she had been there all came crashing down on her at once, and the sheer size of it all crushed her. He remained silent and watched her tears and emotions with… amusement? Confusion? …bewilderment?

She stared back into his eyes, and felt pulled by them. Inside, he was dieing. _Crying_ out for help, company, _longing_ for that loving touch to tell him it was all going to be alright.

No, this wasn't Jack. But he wasn't completely gone either.

…_how to get him back?_


End file.
